


Me Too

by relucant



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Courtship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relucant/pseuds/relucant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas could handle the sex.</p><p>Yeah, he was next-door to a virgin, cosmically-speaking, but he'd been watching over humanity for millennia.  Cultural and chronological quirks came and went, sure, but the basics were pretty consistent.</p><p>And he liked to think he was a decently fast learner.  The first time he fucked Dean, yeah, Dean had had to walk him through it, biting his lip and telling Cas when to add another finger, when to finally guide his cock inside.  But Cas catalogued every one of Dean's reactions to every single thing he did, and adjusted his actions accordingly.</p><p>Cas watched the way Dean lay breathless and sated and staring at him with soft, satisfied eyes, and Cas was pretty sure that he was a fast learner.</p><p>But when it came to <i>courtship</i> -- and he shuddered to think what Dean would say if he used the word -- <i>that</i> varied as widely as every human civilization since the dawn of time, and he still floundered trying to figure out what was appropriate for the American Midwest in the twenty-first century.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Me Too

**Author's Note:**

> super unedited because writer's block blows and i wanted to get it up for shit-day

Cas could handle the sex.

Yeah, he was next-door to a virgin, cosmically-speaking, but he'd been watching over humanity for millennia. Cultural and chronological quirks came and went, sure, but the basics were pretty consistent.

And he liked to think he was a decently fast learner. The first time he fucked Dean, yeah, Dean had had to walk him through it, biting his lip and telling Cas when to add another finger, when to finally guide his cock inside. But Cas catalogued every one of Dean's reactions to every single thing he did, and adjusted his actions accordingly.

Cas watched the way Dean lay breathless and sated and staring at him with soft, satisfied eyes, and Cas was pretty sure that he was a fast learner.

But when it came to _courtship_ \-- and he shuddered to think what Dean would say if he used the word -- _that_ varied as widely as every human civilization since the dawn of time, and he still floundered trying to figure out what was appropriate for the American Midwest in the twenty-first century.

Dean had seemed to like the Welsh love spoon Cas had given him, in a bemused sort of way, and to his credit he hung it carefully on the kitchen wall instead of using it to stir spaghetti sauce. But he never acknowledged it outside of a smile and a _thanks, Cas_ , and Cas went back to square one.

The chocolates were received more enthusiastically. Dean threw one handful into his mouth while holding another out to Cas, nudging the bag of M&Ms to the middle of the table. Cas took them, pleased with Dean's enjoyment, but still feeling like they weren't having the same conversation.

And when Cas had slipped his angel blade into Dean's empty knife sheath, Dean's eyes had lit up,and for a moment Cas thought his message might have come across. But then Dean just grinned at him, said _awesome, dude_ , went on about extra protection against potential dick angels, and Cas turned away again.

On February 14th, Cas sat atop the kitchen table at the bunker, picking at his nails. Dean was out doing God-knows-what, and Cas tried to ignore the sour twist to his stomach, reminding himself that humans didn't need emotions to enjoy sex. It didn't make him feel much better.

Sam wandered in from the library in the late afternoon, stretching until his back popped.

"Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Sam."

"Where's Dean?"

"Out enjoying Valentine's Day 'festivities', I presume."

Sam eyed Cas' unhappy face, then sat down at a kitchen chair, two beers in hand.

"Um, dude," he said hesitantly, sliding one across the table, "I'm pretty sure the only Valentine he's interested in is you."

Cas' eyes shot to his, widening, but his mouth turned down further. "I don't believe so. I thought he might, but he seems content to keep our relationship as… what it is. He's ignored my expressions of affections."

Sam stared at him, then burst out laughing, and Cas' scowl deepened. Sam held up his hands.

"You two are fucking idiots," he informed Cas, fumbling for a beer and popping it open. Cas bristled, but Sam waved his hands. "No, dude -- he has no idea what you're doing. The Welsh spoons? Fucking adorable, but if he doesn't understand…"

"It seemed clear," Cas said, miffed, and Sam snorted.

"Yeah. On a different continent."

Cas folded further into himself. "I thought it seemed… nice."

"It is, Cas," Sam assured him. "But… today is Valentine's Day. That's pretty universal."

"I know for a fact that Dean did not like Cupid."

Sam couldn't bite back another laugh. "No, but nobody likes that. No, just like… Flowers, maybe. And a pie."

Cas thought for a moment. "But… I don't want to interfere, if he wants to find somebody."

Sam sucked in an exasperated breath. "He wants _you_ , dumbass."

Cas retreated to his room, turning Sam's words over in his head, but the hours ticked by, and he was forced to admit that Sam had been wrong, that Dean was perfectly happy spending Valentine's Day out with some random chick. Finally around sunrise, he heard the front door open and boots clomping upstairs, and he pulled the blanket over his head and tried to go to sleep.

He dragged himself back to consciousness shortly before noon, painfully aware of the solitude of his bed. Pulling a blanket around his shoulders, he stumbled halfway down the stairs before he heard the conversation.

"So you had a good night?" Sam said, disapprovingly.

"Hell yeah I did!" Dean declared, and Cas' stomach lurched. "Dude, Charlie's the biggest fuckin' nerd in the world, and her girlfriend --"

"Wait, what?" Sam interrupted. "You were with Charlie?"

"Well -- yeah? Where else would I be on Valentine's Day when I'm into a dude who doesn't want me back?" he snapped, then flushed. "Um. I mean."

"Oh my God," Sam said. "You _assholes_." He stood up, grabbing a beer, and pointed at Dean. "Work your shit out."

Dean stared around, bewildered, until Cas finally made his way downstairs, blanket still around his shoulders and one rose in his hand.

"Um," he said, shifting it from hand to hand.

"Cas?" Dean whispered, his gaze flicking between flower and mouth and eyes.

"I," Cas said, intelligently, and held it out. 

Dean sat down on the chair and took the rose, stroking its petals. "So, you... you're not just… me?"

Cas flashed him an unreadable look before returning his eyes to hands. "Just you." He stared down, waiting for Dean to bluster and backtrack, but instead a gentle thumb stroked at his temple, and then impossibly soft lips.

"Yeah," Dean said sadly into his ear. "Yeah, me too."

Cas pulled away, frowning. "Why are you unhappy?"

Dean snorted softly. "I'm _me_ , dude. Not like anyone's gonna stick around for _me_."

Cas stared at him, then wrapped his hands in Dean's hair. "I gave up Heaven for you," he growled, lips moving on Dean's throat. "I gave everything for you, and I would do it again in a second."

Dean made a high, surprised noise in his throat, but Cas just stood, pulling Dean up the stairs. He shoved Dean into the room they half-shared, working at Dean's shirt before they even reached the bed.

"Cas," Dean hissed, shoving at Cas' borrowed t-shirt even as Cas unbuttoned his jeans. " _Cas_."

"Do you understand?" he asked softly, as he tugged at the denim until it pooled on the floor. "Do you understand how I feel?"

"You -- you don't mean it," Dean said, voice cracking. "You _can't_." He closed his eyes, waiting for Cas' anger -- or worse, dismissal -- but instead Cas laid himself skin-close over Dean's body, and something like feathers skittered over his skin.

"You are everything to me, Dean Winchester," he murmured into Dean's neck. "You have been since I laid a hand on you in Hell, and you will always be."

"Cas," Dean choked. "Cas, you can't -- you can't _mean_ that…"

"I assure you, I do. May I show it to you?"

"I," Dean breathed. "I, uh. Yeah."

Something bright and happy lit up in Cas' face, and Dean desperately tried to ignore the flips it did to his stomach. He tried to turn over, to bury his face in the sheets, but Cas grabbed his hips. 

"May I see you?" he said, stroking down Dean's sides. "May I see your face?"

Dean's face burned, and he twisted slightly. "Cas -- you can't --"

"You're just so beautiful," Cas said apologetically, tracing his fingertips over Dean's rim. "You're _perfect_."

Dean whimpered, embarrassingly, but he flipped onto his back, bending his legs.

"More," Cas entreated, pushing at Dean's thighs. "If you will?"

Dean took a deep breath, then bent his legs further, until Cas could hook them over his shoulders. He found the lube hidden in the folds of the sheets, slicking up his fingers, and slid one fingertip inside.

"Oh, fuck," Dean breathed, biting his lip.

"Good?"

" _Good_."

Cas added his index finger, then a third, watching Dean's face. 

"Are you --"

" _Yes_ ," Dean hissed. "I'm -- c'mon --"

Cas finally shucked the last of his clothes, tugging at Dean's legs and lining himself up. He slicked his cock up and finally pushed inside.

"Fuck," Dean whispered, eyes closed.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, no -- yeah -- keep goin' --"

Cas grabbed Dean's hips, fucking him harder, and Dean's head dropped to the pillow.

"Always you," Cas growled, mouthing along Dean's chest. "Only you."

"Cas -- you can't -- you can't --"

"I can." Cas fucked up hard, then leaned down to mouth at a nipple.

Tears began to blur in the corners of Dean's eyes, and Cas slowed down. "Dean?"

"Just," Dean choked, turning his head to wipe at his face. "Just --"

Cas watched him without moving, ignoring Dean's abortive attempts to thrust down. "I love you," he finally said. "I assumed you knew that."

Dean froze. "What?"

"I love you," Cas repeated, patient but hesitant. "Since the moment I found you and pieced you back together."

The wetness in Dean's eyes spilled over, and he buried his face in Cas' neck. "Again."

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you, Dean Winchester."

Dean reached down, gripping Cas' ass, and pulling him deep inside. Cas made a low, filthy noise, and Dean's cock twitched against his belly.

"I," he said, pulling Cas against him as they rolled against each other. "I -- oh, fuck…I'm --"

"Please," Cas whispered.

Dean groaned, grabbing Cas' hips and yanking them down, Cas' cock dragging over his prostate. 

"Cas, he murmured again. " _Cas_ ".

Cas leaned down and bit at Dean's throat, and Dean went rigid, coming hard over his belly.

"Fuck," Dean gasped, reaching back to palm at Cas. "Cas."

Cas just muttered something incomprehensible, and then shuddered, coming deep inside of Dean, forehead pressed onto his chest.

"Ungh," Dean complained, fingering the drying come on his sides.

"No." Cas slid until they were lying together, smiling against each other."I love you. Even if you never say it."

"I," Dean said, wrapping his arms around the angel's back. "I -- yeah. Yeah, me -- me too."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr>](http://relucant.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/relucanting)
> 
> I'm nice.


End file.
